


Somebody To Lean On

by Wawa_Girl



Series: The Years of Care and Loyalty [1]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Bittersweet Themes, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gamora is a Great Girlfriend, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Irrational Fears, Light Angst, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, Medical hurt/comfort, Memories, Panic Attacks, Peter Quill Whump, Peter Quill is a Dork, Phobias, Post-Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Protective Gamora, Protectiveness, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, bad memories, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23415874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wawa_Girl/pseuds/Wawa_Girl
Summary: Taking pity, Gamora leans forward and clasps his hands, holding their entwined fists together tightly, something she should have done sooner. "Okay, stay calm, it's going to be fine. Squeeze my hands and just breathe."Peter looks up at her, nodding and obeying, his eyes full of gratitude.Wow, itisa good thing she's in here with him; she hadnoclue that it would matter.
Relationships: Gamora/Peter Quill
Series: The Years of Care and Loyalty [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2072127
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	Somebody To Lean On

"We should really be getting these translators updated more often," Gamora says. "At least once per year," she adds with a shrug. "I can certainly understand you better than last week. Far more clear, no fuzziness or bad frequency once," she explains and smiles, standing casually next to her boyfriend seated on the exam table. 

"Mmm-hmm..." Peter says in a distracted tone, eyes bouncing around the room and kicking the heels of his shoes against the side of the table where he's sitting upright. "Y-ye-yeah, s-sure..."

Gamora furrows her brows in confusion and looks at him closer, instead of at the harbor landscape painting on the wall.

It isn't until now that she notices the stammer in his voice, the way he's rocking back and forth on the table, his heavy breathing or fidgeting fingers. "Are you all right? ...Peter?" He finally looks up at her, eyes wide and startled. "Are you okay? You seem off."

"Uhhh...ya, I-I'm just..." he doesn't finish answering her, but his eyes do take a quick peek at the nurse behind him, who at that exact moment happens to be preparing and flicking the side of the long needle. 

Peter whips his head back around and gives a mouth-closed, high-pitched whimper, closing his eyes. "Mmmmm!"

All of his strange mannerisms increase tenfold, his skin blanching pale, his entire body shaking - particularly his right knee. He begins grunting and hyperventilating too.

Gamora is beyond confused now. "What's wrong?" she asks in concern, placing a hand on his shoulder, finding nothing unusual or troubling about their surroundings, curious if he's become ill during the short trip here.

"I..." He looks embarrassed for only a second, because he's clearly too much on edge to care. "I...I kinda have a lil'...fear of needles?" he shakily admits to her, refusing to let his eyes move back in the direction of the tool.

"You do?" Gamora asks, trying not to sound too surprised. She hadn't known that one.

Although thinking back, perhaps needles aren't an everyday occurrence in their lives. Hmm. 

"Well okay," she says in reply to his vigorous nodding. "But you don't seem only...a _little_ afraid..." she offers gently.

"Okay, _huge_ intense fear," he corrects, and _that_ sounds more accurate, matching his outward behavior. "Why--why do you think I could never get into any drugslikemostotherRavagers?" he spits out, eyes scrunched tight, his words slurring together, and it is a good thing that Gamora _did_ get her own translator updated last week, or else she wouldn't have understood a syllable of that.

And she had always assumed that Peter was too _smart_ to get involved with drugs, or any similarly dangerous recreational substances - besides alcohol - during his youth. 

But one thing at a time.

"Alright. But..." Gamora begins slowly, still trying to wrap her mind around this, make some sense of it. "You can handle being shot at during battles, and piloting a spaceship away from enemies chasing us, showing almost no fear, but _needles_ are what...?"

"Yeahyeahyeahsorry, I know, makes no sense, haha, I just--Idunno know what to say," Peter says, talking a mile a minute, eyes still closed. "I just don't like...could never stand the idea of one slicing _through_ skin--oh shit--..." He genuinely looks like he is about to vomit at the thought, right on the clinic room floor, and when he opens his eyes Gamora notices they've become watery in only a few seconds.

There are unshed tears in his eyes, and she knows they aren't from physical pain because he hasn't even been touched yet. They are one-hundred percent from fear.

He's _petrified_.

Damn, she had _no idea_ , but in retrospect it does explain a great deal. 

At least, it explains why every time Gamora had suggested a translator update in the past two years, Peter had quickly changed the subject and procrastinated on the issue.

And it explains Peter tensing in bed throughout the past week every time she'd casually reminded him of the appointment, and his death grip on her hand a few minutes ago in the waiting room.

She can't judge. They all have their anomalies and irrational fears - Gamora being no exception - and Peter is always adorable while nervous.

She is _surprised_ ; it's new information, and it seems strange at first. She knows that Peter is brave and strong, and it is rare that she sees him afraid for non-emotional or relationship-themed reasons. She knows his physical pain tolerance is higher than average humans, that Peter has been _tortured_ in the past and refused to give in, to protect Gamora and his other loved ones, and has always brushed off the experiences after being rescued.

He's endured countless injuries, beatings, bullet wounds, broken bones, stabbings, surgeries, and other terrifying, excruciating experiences. _Ego_ had tortured him as a battery, for what was at the time presumed to be an endless eternity.

But Gamora has never seen him awake and alert reacting to a pre-planned needle insertion.

Still, while Gamora may find it unusual for an adult, and may have found it ridiculous in the past, she _knows_ by now that Peter is not weak - far from it - and doesn't deserve grief or harshness over an unfortunate single phobia.

Judging weaknesses was something Gamora gave up years ago.

Maybe this needle thing is a common fear on Earth. Or just Missouri.

Or maybe it reminds him greatly of unpleasant medical experiences with his mother.

Or brings back traumatic Ravager childhood memories, in which Yondu and other crueler men couldn't be bothered to act comforting or patient with Peter as a young boy whenever something involving needles was required.

Gamora finds that infuriatingly believable, and she can also relate.

"Uggghfuckfuckfuck..." Peter spits out a series of nervous obscenities, blinking back the tears, not bothering to hide his fearful anticipation anymore now that the secret is out, gulping every few seconds.

Behind him Gamora sees the two Xandarian medical workers filling out paperwork and sterilizing instruments, passing sympathetic glances to each other and Gamora.

Well, at least they _care_.

"You'dseriouslythink in a friggin' high-tech, futuristic galaxy t-those things wouldn't be needed anymore," Peter mumbles sadly - not angrily - under his breath. "Shitshitshit, 'n it's longerandsharper than I was thinking..."

Taking pity, Gamora leans forward and clasps his hands, holding their entwined fists together tightly, something she should have done sooner. "Okay, stay calm, it's going to be fine. Squeeze my hands and just breathe."

Peter looks up at her, nodding and obeying, his eyes full of gratitude.

Wow, it _is_ a good thing she's in here with him; she had _no_ clue that it would matter.

Gamora had originally planned to simply relax and read in the waiting room for five minutes while Peter got it taken care of - not worried at all for his health or emotional state, not seeing this as anything but a quick routine errand no different from picking up dry cleaning - assuming that Peter would skip back out to meet her once finished, claiming to be bored, and they would whisk off to their next chore.

The only reason she'd followed him into the exam room was because the clinic's mini-cafe menu didn't list any snacks she found appealing, and Peter's tight hold of her hand in the waiting room chairs had made Gamora assume that he would enjoy her company.

"Breathe _normally_ ," she clarifies gently. "In through your nose. _Not_ as you were. Breathing like that isn't good."

"Sorrysorry, yeah..." he says and does his best, but his breaths are still uneven, his knee still shaking uncontrollably. "I'm sorry, this's stupid, you can go--"

"No no, I won't go anywhere," Gamora says the obvious, could never leave him _alone_ like _this_. "And don't apologize, it's fine. It's just that tensing and shaking will make you feel worse." His shaking did seem to lessen as soon as she took his hands and made him look into her eyes, but she can tell this isn't going to be easy for him. His hands are extremely sweaty, and she can feel and hear his heart beating far faster than normal.

Mantis would probably be able to help calm his nerves, but Gamora has a feeling that she herself is the first person Peter has ever voluntarily told about this fear, and she will respect that. 

And Mantis is terrible at keeping secrets. Drax and Rocket would know about this in less than a day, which Gamora is _sure_ is the opposite of what Peter wants.

"There's no burning liquid; it's only used to reach a tiny section inside to change some settings and information," she tries to put any possible nightmare-scenarios out of his mind. He nods in understanding, not looking at her anymore. "They've done this literally millions of times, they're high-ranked," Gamora keeps listing off reassurances. "This isn't some back-alley, untrustworthy Ravager joint, Peter, I promise. They're licensed, careful, sterile, and _gentle_."

"R-r-right, y-yeah, I-I know..."

"It's really not that bad; not a big deal. It barely hurts," she tells him honestly.

"Heh, yeah, _sure_ ," he replies, clearly not believing _that_ part about it being hardly painful, probably expecting to be bowing his head still and sobbing in agony soon, looking nauseated again by the thought, eyes on the floor.

" _Honest_. It's quick and--actually," Gamora stops herself from this reassurance, suddenly remembering another option. "It won't hurt at _all_ , in fact. They're going to numb it."

Peter actually looks up in surprise at this, no longer distracted or half-listening to her words. "Really? For real?" he asks in a hopeful yet skeptical tone, staring in earnest with hopeful bright eyes.

" _Yes_ ," she says with a little too much confidence, and signals to the two medical workers behind them. Gamora _doesn't_ honestly know for sure if they were originally planning to numb the patch of skin beforehand, but she _does_ know that it's an option; there's no good reason why they can't. "Yes, of course," she tells Peter, before asking quieter over his shoulder, "You can numb it first, correct?"

"Absolutely," the kind nurse behind Peter states, and immediately turns to an open drawer to find what Gamora assumes will be numbing wipes.

"I--I didn't see them d-do that for y-yours last week..." Peter stammers out, squinting at Gamora in confusion.

"Ohh, well it's different for me," she tells him, again being perfectly honest, rubbing his left arm up and down. "My skin is different." _Thicker_ , much thicker. "And so is my body. It's not assumed I would want it, and I didn't request it," she explains. "Of course they will for a Terran, for most other races, it's normal," she exaggerates, not sure if it is the normal routine for _every_ other client, but she doesn't want Peter to feel embarrassed about getting special treatment.

Although given his nerves right now, he probably wouldn't care about that; he likely just wants to be certain that Gamora isn't lying about himself getting the numbing today, despite her own faster, raw experience last week.

In reality she imagines it wouldn't be _that_ painful for Peter without any anesthetic - likely no more than a soft pinch, even for human skin - but she doesn't enjoy seeing him with this anxiety.

"Ohh, o-okay. Good. Tha'sgood, 'kay." He does seem a _tiny_ bit calmer, but definitely still afraid, likely doubtful if the puny numbing wipes will work against the piercing of the steel. "Didn't know..."

Ahh, of course his mind is going back to that day, when Gamora was seated on that same table, bored and stoic while looking down at her nails as the professional slid the needle into her neck like it was nothing, Peter standing back in the corner listening to his Zune with only one earphone. Gamora now recalls him cringing - likely imagining himself in this same spot seven days into the future - and staring in amazement that Gamora hadn't even flinched.

The only reason he had followed her into the exam room last week, Gamora now realizes, was probably because he had thought that she might need _him_ for comfort or support, and wanted to be present just in case, as some type of boyfriend duty.

Boy, Gamora now wishes they had gotten _both_ of their translators over with that day, that all tools had been available for two appointments.

Gamora starts to become concerned that the workers can't _find_ a numbing wipe, but then sees the nurse confidently retrieve something else from a cabinet instead. "We can actually just scan it numb. Much faster. No annoying cold wipes," she explains to Peter as a perk, as though trying to relax a frightened child and get them to smile. "Just hold still, and it will take effect in two minutes or less," she tells Peter in a kind tone, placing a sturdy hand on the shoulder pad of his t-shirt from behind, and Gamora does think that sounds even better than a small wipe.

The male nursing assistant behind them nods respectfully at this idea, and Gamora is grateful _to the stars_ that these two are not the stern, no-nonsense type, but seem to have a warm nature, understanding and empathetic of Peter's fear.

Really, for all their little team does to protect the galaxy, everyone _should_ be accommodating and respectful, even of a grown man with a phobia most common in children.

"See? Hear that? It'll be _nothing_ ," Gamora tells Peter again, looking him straight in the eyes.

He nods and begins trembling a little again, after forcing himself to remain still (including tensing, of course) so the nurse could scan the back of his neck. "Awesome," he gulps, still _not okay_ , but likely pushing himself to believe the three experts around him.

Gamora knows that they could do this routine, thirty-second procedure in his _sleep_ and he probably wouldn't even wake up, given the way Peter tends to sleep like the dead, but nothing will convince him right now that it's going to be so simple and painless.

"Nananana," he lets out a string of gibberish, followed by painfully nervous laughter, breathing irregular again, knowing he has a mere two minutes of mental preparation left. "Ooh, their hands are cold..."

"Hey, just look at me," Gamora tells him and gently cups his cheek, forcing him to look her in the eyes again. "Focus on me. You're fine, it's all okay. You're doing great, Peter. It'll be over before you know it," she uses a common calming cliche. "Just don't _think_ about it," she instructs, _advises_ , which she knows is easier said than done while in this mindset. "Let's talk about something else."

Dear Heavens, _longest_ routine translator update in history, Gamora jokes to herself, though half-serious.

She can't _imagine_ what it was like for Peter first getting the translator implant _inserted_ when he was only a kid.

She doesn't _want_ to think about it.

"What do you want to do when this is done?" she clasps their hands again and asks, because they _need_ to stop talking about _this_. "We'll be out of here in five minutes, will have plenty of time before the others are finished their errands." Peter's eyes keep occasionally finding something interesting on the ceiling, his right knee still vibrating. "Want to go eat lunch out somewhere?" she offers, giving him something to look forward to.

She feels as though she's comforting Groot after a nightmare, or speaking the way Peter often does whenever comforting _her_ over a nightmare. 

And after all this time, after two years of practice, Gamora _still_ feels so mediocre at comfort.

"Perhaps that A'askavarian place you love so much?" Normally Gamora would refuse to be near him while eating that _stuff_ , definitely refuse to _kiss_ him later on the same day, because that food makes his breath _reek_ , but she's making an exception.

"Mmmhmmyeah," he slurs, still distracted, eyes now metaphorically glued to the floor. "Sure, 'kay, whynotthanks."

This is serious.

He didn't even light up at the suggestion, or crack one joke.

Poor ridiculous baby.

"Keep breathing. Squeeze my fingers, it won't hurt me."

 _Why_ did they leave the Zune back in their parked pod?

Peter must have been too nervous to remember it, but he also had to be itching for it now, as a comfort object. He always strokes and grips and listens to that thing whenever anxious. It would definitely help here. 

She won't mention it, doesn't want Peter to jump down and run away, suddenly insisting that he needs it, and then flying home instead of returning.

All right, Gamora will give him more credit than that. She knows that Peter understands that they need fully-upgraded translators for job safety - he hasn't mentioned leaving once - and that he is brave enough to follow through on this appointment, despite Gamora having never seen him act like _this_ over something physical before, so anything seems possible.

But mentioning the missing Zune may only make Peter more anxious, more frustrated and upset with himself.

"Ughhmmmm...no-no-no-no...nooo..."

The healthcare workers still haven't touched him yet, and his eyes are closed again. The pure fear is simply intensifying; Peter is going to be this way until it's over.

Maybe, _maybe_ , even without the Zune, Gamora can try the second best thing to help.

"Ooh..." she begins, then stops to clear her throat. "Ah'm. Ooohh...oooh...things are gonna get easier...things are gonna get brighter..." she sings, probably off-key, omitting the _'child'_ lyric to save Peter some dignity among company.

Peter looks up in surprise, seeming embarrassed but grateful at the same time. "Mmm... 'Mora--"

"Someday..." she continues to sing softly, quietly, with a gentle smile and a knowing look, squeezing and rubbing his hands to encourage him to relax, to listen closely, to focus on her words, to maybe sing along, anything helpful. "We'll walk in the rays of a beautiful suuun...someday when the world is much briiiighter..." She hopes those are the correct words. It's been a while since she's heard that song, but it feels right.

Peter hums the same notes himself, doesn't sing any words, but that's okay. The tears are gone from his eyes and his fingers are less squirmy.

"We'll get it together..." Gamora gently sings a few more lines before fading out. "...and we'll get it undooone...yeeaah..."

"I--I'm sorry, this's silly..." Peter says once she fades out and stops singing. He must be feeling so much like a helpless child right now, but Gamora doesn't care. "You've been hurt _way_ worse, _so much_ worse..."

"Forget it--" Gamora tells him, putting a finger to his lips. Thanos - all other past enemies - are beyond irrelevant here, are always irrelevant to the present.

She and Peter were still both abused, and he is only human.

"I-I've just never had _this_ done," he explains, stammering heavily. "A-a-and've h-had a few... _weird_ timeshaha, withneedles, whenIwas9...a-at this...dragged to this old-dirty Contraxia...shed clinic...place--"

"I get it," she says gently, but inside she's angry, _fuming_ , and she tries to untense her jaw for Peter's sake.

She always tries so hard to be respectful of Yondu's memory - she knows that it's complicated, that Peter still loves him - but even the vague implication of stories like _that_ really test Gamora's limits sometimes.

"A-a-anyway thanks," Peter says, gulping again, still clearly fearful of a specific form of impending pain or discomfort, but focusing more on her face now. "Thanks for helping, stayin'..."

"Of course," she cements to him, and Gamora notices the numbing scanner blinking a red light and the words _'FINISHED - NUMBING COMPLETE'_ , and the nurse washing her hands one final time before starting. "Always, Peter, no problem."

She vows to always comfort him, no matter how small the fear.

"Always," she whispers again, leans her face closer, and kisses him, long and deep and the best possible method to get him to stop shaking and whimpering yet.

He's keeping still, but also getting into the kiss, eyes closed and _almost_ smiling, and Gamora realizes that despite this need-for-comfort being unexpected, she really doesn't mind like she would have in the past.

Peter has saved her life - in more ways than one - numerous times. She _loves_ him.

Helping Peter through this, preventing a single tear from slipping down his cheek, is absolutely worth it.

(Although it's the first time she had ever considered kissing him so deeply in public around others but she's making several exceptions today.)

She _loves_ his annoying ass, _so much_.

Eventually Peter reluctantly pulls away from the kiss for air, and his mind is sent back to the present, letting out a low, impatient and frustrated groan, as if suddenly remembering that they aren't alone together about to make love in their warm bed, but that he's still waiting to be punctured.

"Ugggghhh...why can't they just get it over with?" he whines and squeezes his eyes - and Gamora's hands - even tighter, before sitting up straight and holding perfectly still, as though he's acquired some newfound courage from their kiss and is determined to face his fear, not happy about it _at all_ , but sick of this torturous waiting. "Just stick it in already!" he says, tensing again, and bites his lower lip.

"We did."

Peter's eyes snap open. Gamora smiles.

"Huh?"

"It's all done," the nurse tells him. "We're just getting a small bandage. You can remove it after one day cycle, or during your next showering. Come back if there are any problems."

Peter slowly turns his head to stare at them, then back at Gamora, eyes wide the entire time. "That's IT?!"

The nurse behind them chuckles and confirms, "Yes," and Gamora just nods and smiles wider, having seen the nurse disinfect the skin and slide the needle into Peter's neck mere seconds after they began to kiss, peer through the microscope, adjust the dial and numbers, press and test it a few times, and gently slide the needle back out before their lips had even parted.

Smart move.

"That's IT?!" he asks again in shock, his own smile growing, but a part of him seems to be in disbelief that there isn't more coming, that it wasn't just Step 1, but is one-hundred percent _over_.

"Uhh-huh," Gamora says and watches them place the bandage. "For real," she adds with a smirk. "I told you--"

"I didn't feel a _thing_!" he exclaims with childlike wonder and excitement at the lack of presumed searing pain. "Not. a. _THING!_ "

Yes, she understands that much by now.

"I told you it would be nothing--"

"OHHH!" he shouts like he just finally figured out an obvious clue in a puzzle, like this is the most amazing revelation in the galaxy, _marveling_ at how it was possible without a sting.

His eyes are still as large as the moon, his grip on Gamora's hands loosening, and his smile almost splits his face. "WOW! Wow! OH my god! Great!" he says, acting more and more like himself each second, all tension gone from his body, the color fully returning to his face. "I...damn! It's...and you're _right_ , no more static!" he tells Gamora, probably hearing and understanding foreign words clearly and accurately for the first time in years, having somehow avoided this procedural upgrade his entire life ever since learning that needles are involved. "SO easy and...uhh..." He suddenly looks embarrassed again, and pulls Gamora's hands closer to his face. "Th-the others...Rocket and all...don't have to know about this, right?"

"Of course not," Gamora whispers her promise, kisses his fist, and glances at the two healthcare workers behind them. "Nobody," she emphasizes, and gives them a warning look, to be certain they are not the type to sell this personal phobia and behavioral information to gossip journalists. But they both shake their heads in understanding.

"Damn, your voice is even prettier in whispers," Peter declares and leaps off the table, brimming with confidence, a complete one-eighty from his earlier persona. "Mwah!" he kisses Gamora comically on the cheek and squeezes her shoulders in glee. "I love you!"

Before she can react, he spins around and points toward the two medical professionals who were holding back good-natured giggles. "YOU two are _GOOD!_ " he tells them in awe. "You're amazing! You're friggin' wizards!" _Whatever that means._ "Space wizards! Miracle workers!"

"I don't know if we'd go that far," the male medical assistant speaks up as he removes his rubber gloves.

"I agree," Gamora cuts in.

"PFFT, I would!" Peter insists. "We're keeping your cards forever!" he promises them. Gamora isn't sure if nurses and doctors even _have_ business cards, but... "Seriously, we're spreading the word around, advertising, hero endorsements, whatever you want, you deserve it...!"

"You're very welcome, Mr. Quill," the nurse says genuinely, but not hiding her amusement. "Take care of yourself. We'll see you in one year."

"Alright, Peter, ready to go--?"

"Hey, why wait a year?! We can do this whenever!" Peter continues, throwing his arms up in the air like they'd just won a sports championship, and Gamora has a strong feeling that Peter won't be shutting up about this pleasant surprise within the next few hours. "Next time you," he points his thumb in Gamora's direction, "or anyone else back home misses a good pun, we'll just come back here for them to stab me up and fix it!" he says pointing behind his neck. "Go for it!"

Now Gamora rolls her eyes. "I don't think that will be necessary, but I'm glad it didn't hurt--"

"Seriously! What was the big deal?" he says, the same tone and expression he uses whenever mocking _himself_. "See ya around!" he salutes the workers and grabs his jacket off the chair before heading toward the closed door. "Thanks a million! Bravo!" he tells them one last time, and waves for Gamora to follow him. "Come on, let's go get a whole sleeve of tattoos now! Why not?!" he says as he scurries out into the hallway.

Gamora freezes and blinks in surprise, looking behind her at the other two people inside the room, not positive if Peter is joking or if he's genuinely unaware that such a thing would take _much_ longer than thirty seconds, and _would_ indeed be extremely painful.

Nor would she find that type of body art on Peter - or herself - visually appealing.

"Umm, Peter..."

Her boyfriend pops his head back into the room. "Just kidding!" he reassures with a bright grin. "Screw _that!_ " he says like it's obvious with an exaggerated cringe. "Come on, it's lunchtime! A'askavarian, right?" he asks with more childlike excitement and jovial nonchalance, and dashes back to the waiting room.

Gamora shakes her head in amusement, waves another _'thank you'_ to their nurses, and follows her sweet idiot Star-Lord out the door and back into the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is obviously from [_Lean On Me_ by Bill Withers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fOZ-MySzAac).
> 
> [EDIT: April 4th - Dear lord, just found out this morning that Bill Withers has died, which is very sad. :( Again a complete coincidence (what is going on with those lately?) regarding this story. I chose this song for the title and theme back at the end of February, which isn't too surprising since it's a popular song and I think it fits, but still...wow. :( Hopefully it can be viewed by readers as appropriate and respectful.]
> 
> This fic was fairly unexpected and is NOT part of my pre-planned "I've Loved These Days" series - as may be obvious from the different title, the use of present tense, and the "two years after Volume 1" setting - but I was pretty impatient and excited to share it, and I hope you all enjoyed!
> 
> Woobie Peter is always too much fun for me. <3
> 
> Thank you all for reading! I do hope that a "medical hurt/comfort" story containing this much character anxiety wasn't too much for readers right now. It truly is a coincidence _again_ , I wrote this at the end of February before things were at this level. Continue to stay safe and healthy everybody!
> 
> My _Guardians of the Galaxy_ tumblr (though sadly less active these days) is [here](https://marypoppinswasmyfatherbitches.tumblr.com/)!


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